


a pile of roses

by layla_alyal



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Businessman James Griffin (Voltron), Florist Keith (Voltron), Flustered Keith (Voltron), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25818457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/layla_alyal/pseuds/layla_alyal
Summary: Altea's florist - Home to the finest flowers was home to over dozens of gorgeous flowers all over the globe.Drooping with flowers of all sorts, begging to be bought. In the centre was a counter, where a raven hair stood.Their nametag read of the name 'Keith'.He glossed carelessly over the scenery, all too familiar. Although he would never admit it, Keith longed to be given the flowers that adorned the store. Who would have guessed that would happen this very moment.
Relationships: James Griffin/Keith (Voltron)
Kudos: 17





	a pile of roses

Altea's florist - Home to the finest flowers was home to over dozens of gorgeous flowers all over the globe. Drooping with flowers of all sorts, begging to be bought. In the centre was a counter, where a raven hair stood. Their nametag read of the name 'Keith'. He glossed carelessly over the scenery, all too familiar. Although he would never admit it, Keith longed to be given the flowers that adorned the store. Who would have guessed that would happen this very moment. 

The door slid open rather harshly. The raven hair tumbled backwards, amethyst eyes blooming wide. 

"How do I passive-aggressively say I hate you in flowers?" came a voice, coming closer and closer.

"What?" yelped Keith, still on the hardwood floor. A hand reached out to him. He looked upwards, and there stood a man. A handsome man. His tawny brown hair stuck up in every direction, covering one of their slate eyes. A wholesome smile was plastered on his face, perfect white teeth showing. Keith grabbed his hand, standing up. 

"Oh, I - I am so sorry!" 

"Nah, it's fine, happens all the time."

"I see."

"What did you need?" 

"Do you - well - how do I passive-aggressively say I hate you in flowers?" said the man. His navy suit provided a pleasing contrast to his cranberry button up.  
'It fits him snugly, and quite well.' thought Keith. His cheeks grew the colour of petunias.

"Sir?" 

"Oh! Um yeah, you wanted a bouquet?"

"Yes."

"Alright, so we would need geraniums, which means stupidity, foxglove, that like means insincerity, meadowsweet, which is basically like saying your very useless, yellow carnations, that means 'you have disappointed me', and orange lilies," exclaimed Keith, eyes full of curiosity. Amethyst eyes met slate eyes, which swirled with adoration. The two stood there, being drawn in closer and closer. 

A loud thud came from behind, as a pile of roses laid carelessly. Their gazes broke from one another, observing the scene in front of them. Both rushed to the fallen flowers.  
Creme hands reached for the 'Rosa Ingrid Bergman' roses before an ivory hand stopped him.

"I can do it,"

"No, it's fine,"

"Are you sure?"

"Super sure." 

"Fine." said the raven hair, rolling his eyes. Once they had gathered all of the roses, the man handed the flowers to Keith.

"Hey, are you free Saturday night?" asked the man. Amethyst eyes grew wide, as it dawned on him. He merely nodded, as a grin grew on his face. "Do you wanna go out on a date?"  
"Yes! I mean - yeah - yeah sure!" yipped Keith rather enthusiastically. 

"Is 7 okay?"

"Yup!"

"Alright," said the man, clasping his hands "A date it is!"

They both stood up, with Keith holding a pile of roses. The man began to walk away towards the door.

"Wait!" 

"Huh?"

"You forgot your bouquet,"

"Oh, you can - um - just never mind." He began to reach for the door handle, beginning to slide the door open.

"Hey, sir - date guy - nice guy- I didn't catch your name," mumbled Keith embarrassingly. 

"I didn't throw it," replied the man, cockiness laced through his voice. "James. James Griffin. And yours is?"

"Keith."

"I'll see you at 7 on Saturday, I'll pick you up from here."

"Yeah," said Keith, a droopy smile was plastered on his face as he watched James walk out of the little flower shop.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first ever fic! I hope that you liked it. Lil tidbit:
> 
> "What?!" exclaimed Pidge, rounded glasses sliding off the bridge of her nose. "You got asked out by a hot dude!"
> 
> "Shut up." came a mumbled from the pillow in which Keith hid his face in.


End file.
